Splinter
by 1Past and Present1
Summary: Sonic and Amy's idyllic marriage. Vector and Vanilla's struggles as an unorthodox couple. Tails and Cream's growing pains. Rouge's secrets and Shadow's innocence. Blaze and Silver's tentative tragedy. Whisper's clumsy courtship of Tangle. And Knuckles. Scattered scenes about the cost of affection.
1. Chapter 1

After some struggle, Sonic utters a quiet, amusingly pathetic sound, alerting Amy to his distress.

She doesn't look up from the recipe book, delightfully old-fashioned and a family heirloom of sorts, as she patiently holds out her hand.

He flutters his lashes and places the jar in her palm.

She breaks the seal with a twist of her wrist before she effortlessly pries off the cap.

"My hero," he coos, as if it's foreplay. He's certainly impressed by her casual displays of strength.

She offers a womanly grunt in turn, but her stoicism wavers in the wake of a peck on her cheek, making her almost forget that she isn't a hormonal teenager anymore, that there is a pot boiling on the stove which will soon need attention. She turns to gaze at him, eyelevel, equal, enraptured.

He smiles against her lips upon her kissing him back, feeling her resolve to concentrate on other things crumble away.

* * *

Vector is an excellent dancer. Deceptively so. Unexpected, at first.

Vanilla's laughter fills the room as he lifts her in his arms and turns, his tail curling about his shoes, dragging sinuously over the carpet, at risk of toppling furniture.

Upstairs, Cream is seated on her bed. She sips demurely at a cup of tea whilst reading a book, Cheese happily swaying in her lap, enjoying the music that filters jovially from below.

Bent over a machine in a disorderly workshop, Tails is trying to summon the courage to give the pretty rabbit a call.

Keeping Vanilla close, her voluptuous body melding to fit against a broad, firm chest, Vector's smile is broken when she nuzzles against his snout, pulling on his gold chain.

* * *

Shadow bares his teeth, a silent snarl, but does not shy away from Rouge's cradling hand, nor is she intimidated by his display.

"I'm sorry I ate all the yogurt by myself, again. I'm a pig and I'm all kinds of awful, besides."

"Except you're not sorry at all."

"Nope." She brings their foreheads together, inhaling him, before letting out breathily against his face, "But I'll make it up to you, like I always do."

He narrows his fierce, otherworldly eyes at her, but she doesn't literally combust beneath his heated glare. He watches blood rise to the skin of her muzzle, tinting her.

"Name your price."

"Dinner."

"Candlelit?"

"Yes."

"Someplace fancy. Intimate. Soft music playing in the background…"

He shows himself a fraud with how easily her purring undertones console him, her strong fingers teasing away his scowl, smoothing aside any downturn to his mouth.

"And afterward, we'll grab another tub of yoghurt on our way home. Your favourite flavour."

He rumbles harmlessly as she softly grinds their brows together.

"I'll even give you a head start."

"You'll permit me the whole thing," he murmurs back, using a low volume that delights her keen ears, "if you want this plot of yours to work."

She sinks fingernails, like glassy claws, into the fur of his chest, her body shuddering.

"Otherwise, I shall stay mad at you."

"Oh, perish the thought." She giggles. "That would be terrible!"

"Are we agreed, then?"

She bites her lip, withdrawing slowly, achingly.

He delights, perhaps cruelly, in how easily he dismantles her.

"Can't we just skip dinner and forget the yoghurt and go right to the sex part?"

"There never is a sex part, despite your many invitations."

"And I think it's safe to assume that, tonight, I will finally seduce you." She says this in jest, at peace with his limitations but always eager to skirt the boundaries of what is appropriate. She adds a conspiratorial wink for emphasis, harmless enough.

"If you have any hope of success, you're going to treat me like a prince." He tilts his head in a manner that effectively prohibits further argument.

"The Ultimate Lifeform deserves no less." She sighs melodramatically. "Very well. Get me all wound up and torture me for the next few hours, then. Anything to make you happy."

"Excellent."

She drags her palm slowly down his cheek, simultaneously gripping a fistful of fluff below his chin.

"Don't disappoint."

* * *

Silver dusts himself off with a hum of satisfaction, admiring the disorderly bed of flowers. It feels like this steadily growing garden is the definitive start of something better.

Blaze doesn't articulate her pride. She silently swells with it, standing at his side, uncaring of the dirt smeared over her royal garb, the scandalous disarray of her fur.

He suddenly leans sideways, his shoulder bracing against hers as she keeps him from falling.

Her breath leaves her. She finds his hand and holds it.

Water drips from the edge of a bowing leaf.

"I dread going back."

He knows why.

She is to be married, but she does not love her suitors, and so the non-existent choice seems especially arbitrary. She is to produce an heir, as much as the notion of motherhood doesn't suit her, as much as she delays the inevitable. She told him, once, that she fears carrying on her curse.

He doesn't envy her lot. It is another kind of loneliness, he had said. He couldn't tell her to run away. But he hopes that this place can be her refuge for a little longer. Somewhere she can hide. It seems so silly, how something can seem so inevitable to a time traveller and a princess of living fire.

She has desire in her gut. Hot and throbbing. It's almost enough to subdue her anxieties. It's more effective than the peace of his garden. This lust she feels. At her darker moments, she imagines forsaking her duties and simply staying here, with him, tending to nature, his and hers, leaving a kingdom behind to be picked at by opportunistic subjects that could replace her. She's a symbol, a metaphor, a mere figurehead. But she loves her people too much and her love is too real.

* * *

Knuckles places his palm on the glowing stone. It speaks to him, through him, filling him up wherever he senses he is lacking. For a while. And then there is the consolation of silence. Of being alone. Of having no free will and therefore no room for hope, for disappointment. It seems too cutting to call it disillusionment.


	2. Chapter 2

"Aw. You're so cute when you pretend to be mad."

"Who says I'm pretending?"

Sonic lovingly gazes across the little sitting room at Amy, whose eyes are playfully narrowed back at him.

"I'm furious. Fierce."

"No doubt about the second one."

"Sweetie, I'm literally seconds away from biting you."

"Yeah?"

"Just barely restraining myself."

"Kinky!"

She growls, earning a beaming smile, kick-starting her heart with delight.

"I'm okay with encouraging this mood swing."

She radiates something gentle despite her attempts at looking cross.

"Man, being married to you is a trip I don't wanna sober up from."

"Husband, you never let me win."

"You like a challenge, wife."

"I dunno what I'm supposed to do with you, quite honestly." She redirects her glare at the offensive board game, reaching to tap thoughtfully at her chin. "My strategy was so well thought out. Am I simply bad at this game?"

"It was a magnificent strategy, babe. And you're the best."

"Then why do I always lose to you?"

"I've never beat you at arm wrestling, if that helps."

She blows air out the corner of her mouth, stirring an errant quill by doing so. "Yup, it does."

"Then, shall we?"

"You really think you're off the hook that easy? Sweetie, please."

He suddenly throws his arms open, rising from the plush chair opposite. "C'mere."

"No, I'm sulking." She does nothing to resist as he skips around the low table and slips onto her lap, taking her into a smothering embrace. "Mmph."

"I love you."

"Unfair." She hugs him as fervently, then, burying her head beneath his chin. "You know those three words, when strung together like that and said by you, are my single greatest weakness."

* * *

On their family outings, Vector feels the most like an outsider. He wishes he didn't stand out so much. A sore thumb. An oddity.

Vanilla has told him to pay the stares and whispers no mind. Interspecies romance isn't a taboo. It's been long enough for society to come to grips with certain parts of itself.

And yet he feels a little stiff seated at the table, smiling distantly as Cream relays a funny story, his gravelly sounds of amusement contrasting jarringly against Vanilla's soft giggles.

Cheese helps, though. He stuffs bread into his mouth and attracts at least some of the persistent, unwanted attention.

* * *

"Oops."

The absurdity of this declaration is enough to draw Rouge's attention from the cake base, fresh out of the oven and clearly overdone, disappointed aquamarine meeting with amused rubies.

"At least you tried."

She projects her lower lip, which trembles for sympathy.

"There, there." Shadow places his hand on her shoulder. "Baking isn't one of your developed skills. There's no shame in failure."

"Gee, thanks a bunch."

A reassuring pat assuages her, until he purrs in a manner designed to provoke, "You're no Amy Rose, after all."

"Bet you wish otherwise, huh?"

He smirks, patting his best friend again, watching the bat's playful indignation slowly die, replaced with good-natured resignation.

"You lovable asshole. You're lucky you're cute."

The dark hedgehog inclines his head agreeably. "That I am."

"Well, then." Returning to the ruined cake, Rouge takes off the thick oven mitts and tosses them onto the marble countertop, hands then setting on her sturdy hips. "I say we scrape off the crunchy bits and slather the rest in caramel. Good enough for a weekend binge."

"I'm sure it'll be delicious."

"It better be. You're my Guinea pig and you're gonna try it, first."

"Surely, you wouldn't poison a prince."

"Delicious, now poisonous?"

"It can be both."

"Whatever it is, whoever you are, I'm the queen, honey. I do as I damn well please." A feminine rumble of indignation. "Also, how dare you?"

Shadow chuckles quietly.

"I baked a whole cake by myself. Myself!"

"I'm proud of you."

"Are you, really?"

"I'm certainly not proud of your cake, now, am I?"

"Utter cheek. It's because I don't discipline you enough."

Before he can react, she seizes a dish towel and tosses it over his face.

* * *

Blaze's head feels so heavy on her royal shoulders. But her people come first. Silver does not. She never has.

Another handsome young man is calling, today. He vies for something more than her polite distance, hoping to beguile her with a chat about empty, expensive things as they amble through the garden.

She moves with grace and poise that they say flows within her hot blood, but is actually just behaviour she has memorised within her muscles. She has grown to know and understand that she is no different from her friends and in no way above their fight for freedom.

The flowers only remind her of a garden amidst ruins in a future that is not hers.

Back erect, tail careful not to irritably swish and thereby shatter her air of indifference, she allows her hand to stay stilled, calmly grasping her suitor's bent arm without burning a hole through the rough sleeve, as he makes the unknown mistake of plucking a flower, passing it to her, a romantic platitude.

"For you," he says, as if to add weight, to add meaning, as if he isn't stating the obvious and patronising her.

She smiles without actually smiling. It's a practiced expression designed to obscure and console.

Silver wouldn't pick flowers, for fear of killing. He, too, believes that all living things can feel pain. Due to his own mistakes, he has tried so hard to be kind.

* * *

"This is all I want."

The stone is silent because Knuckles is supposed to be full.

Rugged hands support a lengthy snout as he rests his head, amethyst eyes imagining figures in the glow. "You're enough for me," he says. "I'm your guardian. You're all I need. This is it."

It emits warmth, which he knows, but as he is rendered numb to it, he feels none. It's less scary since it happens from time to time, when he remembers the absence of voices aside from his own.

"You are it." He isn't complaining, though. This is his destiny. It'd just be nice, he thinks, to have a little company tonight. But he has no choice and so there is no reason to miss them. Helplessness is comforting, in a way, for a mind that rarely dares probing philosophy and shimmering romanticism and challenging tradition.


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you asked her out yet?"

"No."

"She'll be heading back again in a few weeks. What's stopping you?"

"Um. Is this another interrogation?"

Amy gives Tails a lovingly serious look from over her tea. "Yes."

"Bro. Help."

Sonic casually nibbles on one of his wife's freshly baked cookies, giving the fox no assistance.

Sky blue eyes narrow on the hedgehog's emerald green, then nervously swivel back to the pink hedgehog seated opposite.

"Well, young man?"

"I'm… working on it."

"What does this mean, sweetie?"

"I'm not ready, yet, but I've thought about it and I've devised a strategy."

"As if you were approaching some sort of mechanical problem."

"Or an Eggman problem."

"Uh. I guess?"

"Cream is not a machine and she's nothing like Eggman."

"You're implying that I've gone about this incorrectly."

"You can't reduce a person and a personal encounter to something overly clinical. There isn't really any strategy to getting 'ready,' sweetheart. Other than simply being yourself, holding onto your courage and diving in with an open heart and good intentions."

"I respectfully disagree."

"That's fair. I am rather biased."

"As am I. I feel there is always a definite strategy, especially when 'diving in' – unless you're willing to risk a head injury."

"Or a broken heart, sweetie?"

"Or that," Tails mumbles, earning a fond pat on the knee. "I'm too big to be so scared. I'm supposed to be a man."

"You're no less manly for being nervous."

"And Cream would never do that to you, little bro. The girl's sweeter than my wife's baked treats, and these are pretty sweet."

"Thank you."

"Just sayin' it like it is, dear."

"Of course, she would never mean any harm. But she still could hurt me unintentionally and I could hurt her, too, or I could hurt myself because I'm sensitive and I overthink."

"That last bit's your problem, bro. Sure, you're thinking too hard."

"I can't help it. You know me, guys. This is the way I am."

"And you're wonderful."

"Yeah?"

"A total catch, man."

"Aw. Thanks. That makes me feel… better. Sorta."

"Hey, look at me. Remember the hammer?" Amy giggles, fluttering her lashes at Sonic, who winks back at her. "I was a maniac in our younger days. Even then, I managed to get the guy in the end. I changed my strategy, if you wanna call it that, and it worked!"

"Wore me down, didn't ya?"

"Little by little!"

"That's kinda creepy, you guys."

"Still! Lovely young lady like that? Heh. Cream's not gonna be single forever, kiddo."

"I am aware…"

"This plan of yours. Does it come with blueprints, too, little bro?"

"Yes. So?"

"Husband, please."

"Sorry, wife. Just jesting."

"And I adore you for it, but look at him. He needs to be covered in hugs and kisses."

"I do?"

"But you'd prefer getting those from Cream, yeah?"

"Err…"

"Be nice!"

"Just sayin'. She's a sharp thing, but she's not psychic. Only way it's likely to happen is if she knows you're interested, bro."

"I understand, but–"

"But nothing. You're nervous and that's totally okay. I was, too. Especially after the hammer."

The pink hedgehog nods gently despite her smirk.

"You've gotta ask Cream out and hope she says yes, or at least make it obvious enough that you're hopeful she'll ask you out. Man! Even better." The blue hedgehog wiggles his brows at the fox's flushed expression of delight and embarrassment. "Assertiveness is pretty hot."

"B-but what if she isn't interested? I don't want to miscalculate!"

"Cream is a woman. A great woman, but still, she's a woman. There is no math in the universe that'll account for that, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, dames are a crazy lot."

"Watch yourself, cutie."

Sonic turns to Amy with a slow, deliberate bite of his biscuit.

"When we get home…"

"You're both out of it." Tails shudders. "Is this really what marriage is about? Is this what marriage does to people?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Afraid so!"

"Eugh. I don't fancy my chances, then."

"It's just about growing old and senile with the right person, sweetheart."

"Yeah, bro. Like this loon, here."

"Yes, and that makes me your loon."

"The prettiest loon, too."

"Guys! I preferred the interrogation!"

"Say, I've got an idea. How about we practice what you might say to her?"

"As in… roleplay?"

"Yeah. Ask us out."

"Hrrm. This is bypassing 'kinda' to 'really' creepy, now."

"Or respond to being asked out."

"Super creepy."

"Either way, this'll help you practice. Y'know. So ya don't get all tongue-tied in the moment. Until she ties your tongue, that is. Know what I mean?"

"Don't be such a – god, she's like my little sister, no matter how fully grown she is!"

"Whew," the blue hedgehog utters with a flinch behind his cookie. "I'd better watch out. Too much jesting."

"Ignore my beautiful, idiotic soulmate." The pink hedgehog gives the blushing fox a hand, holding him in a manner designed to convey strength and comfort. "Would you like to give it a try?"

"Well, it'll be making a fool of myself ahead of time, if there ever is a time, so I might as well take the opportunity to get used to crushing embarrassment during a simulation."

"You might be surprised. I've practiced difficult conversations in front of mirrors, before, and I've always found them helpful."

"I, um… I don't know how to talk to women in a romantic or sexual context, though. Like, how do I start? What do I even say to her?"

"'Hey, babe, how's it goin'? Studies, right? Neato. You're smart. I'm smart? Yeah! Wanna get a beer sometime? We can be smart… together. Mmmyeah?'"

"Husband!"

"Wife."

"Ahem." Amy glares affectionately at Sonic, then returns to Tails with patience. "I doubt Cream would be receptive to such a tactic, so try to go in virtually the opposite direction and you should be fine."

"Okay, I get it. I think that baseline might approximate something useful."

"See? I helped!"

* * *

Cream is home because it's her break, but she doesn't have much time. Her rational side tells her that she shouldn't be contemplating anything serious with this man, but she can't get Tails off her mind.

Especially when Vector's low, gravelly tones emanate through the walls, communicating his desire for Vanilla despite his efforts at being quiet.

The younger rabbit quickly reaches for her headphones, placing them over Cheese's head so as to preserve his innocence. She is glad for her mother's happiness, but she can only whisper, "Seriously?" at the ceiling, with thoughts of a fox that smiles. She should call him. Make the first move.

A moan, distinctly feminine.

"We need to move out, Cheese."

* * *

"It's true, then."

"What is?"

"My prior observation about your combat abilities. I've just confirmed it."

"Care to share the specifics, handsome?"

Shadow nimbly sidesteps a precise jab from Rouge's heel, crimson delving into aquamarine. Such a blow would crush the skull of an unprepared opponent, but he finds this exercise to be one of his favourite pastimes, because he knows her too well.

"Out with it, hon."

"You're getting slower."

"Yeah?"

"I suspect the culprit is…"

In the pause that follows, their blows echo.

"Don't be a tease, dear."

"I'd hate to offend you."

"Bullshit. Say it, babe."

"If you insist."

"I do. What's the culprit?"

His voice, like velvet, barely hides a cutting edge as he purrs, "Age," with a smirk intended to goad.

"A-age?!"

"Are you losing your hearing as well?"

"Wah–?" She falters momentarily, giving him the opportunity to take a swipe at her chin, narrowly skimming her flesh upon her reflexive correction. "Bitch!"

"It's inevitable. You are mortal, after all."

"Why, you cheeky little prick."

"And I suspect you will grow increasingly cantankerous in the coming years."

"Take that back."

He doesn't realise it, but he's beautiful, especially when he does these vexing things – such as maintaining conspicuous silence at fitting times.

"I'm gonna take your sexy head off, then."

"Indeed?"

"Mount it above my bed."

"How indecent."

"You know me, hon."

His brows are bent playfully, even as her hastened motions remain controlled and powerful. He compensates, making seamless adjustments to match her, not quite going too far. There are few who could take her in a fair fight, but as the Ultimate Lifeform, he is among them. He could defeat her, indeed, if he tried.

As an unblinking spectator, Omega finds this show of hormones amusing, in its own way. Something approximating a mating ritual. He makes an internal note of it and files it under a collection of such amusements, to be used as leverage against them, later. Or merely for a chuckle.

"Impressive," the hedgehog mutters, forehead gleaming, central stripe slick with sweat. "Especially considering your handicap."

The bat hears despite her panting. "Like that, do you?"

"I do."

"Good, 'cause I've got more for you if you think you're ready for me, honey!"

Shadow is about to reply when Rouge smiles at him, fangs flashing in the artificial light. He is, for an instant, distracted by them. He wonders, in that same instant, if she may have vampirism within her ancestry. He has wondered this before. She laughed ominously the last time he asked her. This has only fuelled his speculation.

She catches his shoulder and the blow knocks his slender body aside.

He nimbly corrects himself with a grunt, eyes flickering with surprise and a curious sort of pleasure.

Her seductive, predatory grin doesn't diminish at all, even as he lunges at her, forcing her to deflect, muscles distending with the effort of keeping him at bay, but close. Most would be terrified, but she knows him better than most. She knows that his chest hair is somehow even softer than it looks and she knows the aching temptation of wanting to dive into him so as to bury her face in it.

"Focus."

"I am focused, you asshole."

"Stop ogling my bosom, then."

"Heh. You said 'bosom'!"

"Ugh."

* * *

"Wait."

Blaze stops just short of the portal, turning elegantly back to the garden.

Silver hurries to retrieve something, bending, then rising again.

Her golden eyes widen as he returns to her.

"I dunno if it'll survive the journey, but…" He holds out a little plant in a cracked pot, its flower resembling a tiny sun. "This way, maybe I can keep you company, even when we're apart."

"Silver…"

"Since we grew it together, I mean. It can be… a symbol. Of us. Does that make sense?"

"It does."

"Good. Because I sometimes sound crazy, even to myself."

She steps closer to him, her movements slow and injured.

"Blaze?"

"Oh, Silver."

He splutters as she brings her forehead against his, cradling the pot within his hands, thus cradling his hands as well.

"Thank you."

Moments pass in silent stillness, save for the breeze and the rustling of leaves.

Relieved, yet rigid, he watches her as she carefully takes the gift, drawing it close to herself. He has to remember, however, to let it go. To be let go of in turn.

"This is so kind. So thoughtful."

"So naïve, eh?"

"Why does this feel…?"

"Familiar."

"Yes."

He acts on another impulse, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling the temperature within her soul, in kissing her cheek quickly and evasively, yet she is like a mighty tower felled by a blade of grass.

She wants to tear off her royal attire and throw him to the soft churned earth. Sordid thoughts such as these do not befit a queen. His body would fill hers and like the broken pieces of a single entity brought together once more, they would finally feel whole.

He makes a fragile little noise when she cautiously brings her lips to his cheek in kind, depositing an equally brief, clumsy peck.

The breeze stirs the rustling leaves of their little garden paradise, otherwise sheltered in the belly of the ruins, breaking the sunlight.

"Wow."

"Indeed. Wow."

"I, uh… I guess… you'll be going, now."

"Silver, I… I wish…"

"It's okay, Blaze."

"It's not. It's painful."

"I know. But it's nobody's fault."

It's a common weed.

* * *

Knuckles can see their faces in the facets, but they can't see him.


	4. Chapter 4

"You can't… use this trick… to win every argument, _hnng_… Mister Rose!"

Sucking on flesh, Sonic pauses long enough to utter breathily, "Can't I?"

"It's naughty. Oh, I… I like it too much."

He knows Amy's body. He has mastered it.

"You're… the worst. And the best." She shivers, her smile turning crooked as their fingers interweave. "And everything, besides."

He remembers her strengths. He holds all her weaknesses.

"Hey. Why… were we arguing, again… anyway?"

Emerald eyes trace the pulse. All the ways he could take her apart.

"Whatever. Doesn't… matter. You've won."

How he intends to put her back together.

"You always do."

* * *

"You did great back there, Cream!"

"Thanks, Tails." With untrained fingers she proceeds to run in little circles around his heavily armoured character, her enchanted staff animated with a pretty trail of green poison.

"Chao," says Cheese, quite entertained.

"Your guildmates seem very nice." A giggle, soft and sweet. "I was so nervous to meet them."

"Yeah, they're a good bunch."

"Thank you for including me in your adventure, today. I've had fun."

"Nah." Relief fills the fox's chest with a pleasurable thrum. "Thank you." He knows by her voice that she's not only being kind, but also honest. "For playing with me, again, I mean. I know it's not your scene, so it's really kind of you to do something that you know I'm comfortable doing."

"It's funny, but we keep thanking each other when we really don't need to."

"Yeah."

"What's important is that we're together, even when we're not in the same room."

"Yeah..."

The words, though softly spoken, are enough to block out the stifled grunts of Vanilla in the next room, exposing Vector to the hunger of a woman who has waited for too long, his wrists bound in silk.

* * *

"God, those new boots have murdered my feet." Said footwear is, ironically, savagely kicked aside. "Ugh. The lengths I will go for fashion! To be fabulous!"

"Indeed, you're quite ridiculous."

"That's not what I said."

"It's what I heard."

"All heart, as always. My feelings…"

"You did drag me along. What about mine?"

"This again? You could've stayed home, handsome. But you like me and you like following me around. Just admit it. Finally."

"Why would I?"

"Because I'll be satisfied."

"And then?"

"And then... I'll go easier on you."

"No, you won't."

"Ah, you're clever and beautiful. I wish I could say I'd forgotten. Then I could claim to underestimate you."

"And thus I admit to nothing."

"But I didn't drag you anywhere." As if to contradict, a finger drags its way slowly down a fluffy, tussled chest, leaving behind an uneven, wandering trail. "I didn't have to. And we both know it."

"Suppose I had stayed home. What then?"

"Then you would've missed the joy of getting drunk with me," Rouge whispers, her hot breaths scathing Shadow's smirking lips. "And you would've missed the chance to beg me not to make a fool of myself dancing on these aching feet."

"See?" He remains unintimidated by her womanhood, boring into her seductive eyes with calm ferocity. "I had to come along, to keep you out of too much trouble."

"No such thing as too much trouble."

"Your lipstick has smudged."

With an affectionate grumble she withdraws first, disguising the loss by tossing her keys in the handmade little clay bowl. "Do you suppose anyone noticed my pain?"

"You were valiant and hid it well." He waits as she unshoulders her jacket.

"Did you see the tits on that redhead?"

"Possibly."

"Anyway," she purrs whilst passing the jacket carelessly to him, having taken a little longer than usual to navigate her way out of its warmth. "Remind me to burn them, later."

"The boots?"

"Yes, let's burn the boots."

"I see."

The jacket now hangs from an ornate hook, like a phantom in fake leather.

"And you were so excited to wear them."

"That's history, babe."

He smirks, following as she saunters deeper within her kingdom.

"Yo, Omega. Where are you, big guy?"

"Hell," is the robot's monotonous, mournful drone that emanates from deeper within the house.

"And here's Satan!" The bat enters the lounge with open arms, grinning toothily. "Did you miss me?"

"Affirmative." A mechanical sigh. "Despite all reason and logic, I find myself glad to see you both."

"Melodramatic."

"No worse than you, hon."

The dark hedgehog rolls his eyes.

"What's wrong, dearest?"

Omega's lenses swivel from his place behind the couch, tracking Rouge as she joins his side. "Everything," he says, eventually.

"Did you activate your moody teenager protocol? Because that's Shadow's thing."

The hedgehog scoffs at the bat whilst taking his seat on the farthest end of the couch, thus situating himself farthest away from her.

In the robot's mighty claws is the television remote. He sighs again, idly changing channels.

"Omega, baby," Rouge purrs, caressing his arm, "speak to me."

"You're very drunk."

"Hush, you. Hon? I'm here. I'm gonna take care of you."

"It is difficult."

"I know. I know! Oh, you glorious hunk of metal. What happened while we were out, to upset my sweetest killing machine, so?"

"Meatbags happened."

"Curse them!"

"Affirmative. I feel sapped of my usual strength and enthusiasm to function."

"No! Heavens, no."

"Your kind is so squishy, yet laden with rules and principles as to the acceptability of squishing."

"Uh-huh. Totally."

"It frustrates my programming, as I am programmed to squish, yet tragically, too, I am unpermitted to squish."

"You poor thing." The bat leans lovingly against the robot. "Did you get into Shadow's poetry, again?"

"Negative."

"Something worse, then?"

"Affirmative."

"My, my."

Dark hedgehog elegantly pretends to ignore his companions.

"The whole house to yourself, a few hours to kill… I thought it was a recipe for the most fun sort of disaster. Omega, my soulmate in a can, do go on." Rouge gives one final enthusiastic rub before she unsteadily moves to stand beside the couch. "But don't mind me, my feet are zombies."

"Enquiry – your feet are… what?"

"Indeed, don't mind her."

The robot picks at a speck on his paint, puzzled.

"Here I come." The bat tenses, readying herself. "Shadow, if I end up colliding with you, again, I'm sorry but also you deserve it."

The hedgehog gives a sidelong glare. "Don't."

"I'm about to."

"Don't even think–"

"Too late, already did. Prepare yourself!"

Shadow bares his teeth.

Rouge helplessly giggles, then grows ominously silent, still ready to leap.

Omega is annoyed, because he is faced with the notion he does not understand whilst waiting to explain why he is so depressed.

"Burn the boots…"

The robot's lenses flicker with excitement. "Burn?"

"Burn them."

"Burn them!"

The hedgehog hisses as the bat launches herself onto the couch, plunging face-first into cushion he hastily thrusts forward as a shield, sparing himself an armful of drunken best friend.

"I enjoy burning all manner of things," notes Omega, sounding pleased. "As you did not designate which shoes, I shall take the liberty of burning them all."

"You imbecile."

"Mmph!"

"Burn." The robot ticks with intense thought. "Burn. Burn…"

"See? You've set him off, now."

Rouge produces a muffled growling sound as Shadow's hand settles lightly on the back of her head, then pushes her face a few inches deeper into the cushions.

"Your makeup shall bring ruin in addition to his flamethrowers. Feel ashamed. I know you can't but I urge you to try."

"Burn," is the monotonous chant, "burn, burn!"

The hedgehog then releases the bat, having ensured that his palm leaves a messy imprint between her ears, mussing her normally perfectly combed hair.

She lifts herself on her elbows to sneer at him, then internally wonders why his reply is a snigger.

"Burning. Burning all the things."

"Omega."

"What is it, Shadow?"

"Why don't you actually tell us about this terrible evening you've had in our absence?"

"But he's so happy! Let him be."

"You're the one who was acting all concerned, before."

"But I'm drunk and disorderly."

"There have been many annoying programmes catering to you meatbags." It is too late, however, to stop the robot's deadpan speech. "I feel offended." There's a faraway dullness to his optics, now.

"Not a lot of robots watching TV, to be fair."

"I do not care."

"Okay, then."

"I attempted to find solace in the culinary arts, the execution of which I am most efficient at. Do you recall my efficiency?"

"We know, buddy."

"We recall."

"Good. However."

The bat and the hedgehog listen to the inner working of their friend.

"One of you has misplaced my apron."

Rouge winces, giving Shadow ample opportunity to gloat with his eyebrows.

"Explain its absence, meddlesome meatbags."

"Well, uh… It needed a wash!"

"A wash. It needed a… wash."

"Oh, here we go."

"It is marked with the batter of pancakes, the ooze of gravy–"

"Babe, please, it will be so much nicer when it doesn't look like you killed everything in our kitchen."

"Kill!"

"No! No kill! Bad!"

"That spillage, my apron. I liken it to the oil of my inferiors, splattered on my chassis, as I proudly march through the battlefield."

"I know, honey, but–"

"First I am forbidden to squish. Then I am deprived of my apron, leaving me with only television. All because of you meatbags."

"I know what'll cheer you up."

"What could possibly–"

"Drunk I am, but I am proud, also! I care not!"

"I assume that the social event for which the two of you abandoned me was adequate in all material respects, save for some embarrassing incident. Correct?"

"Embarrassing? I didn't do a single thing to embarrass a soul. Not one." With quick and unsteady readjustment Rouge throws herself backward, sinking with a groan into the comfort of cushions, her long legs swinging over to settle across Shadow's lap. "No shame! But I'm not too drunk to spank you. And I'm honestly in the mood for it."

"Enquiry – Shadow, what did she do this time?"

"Beep-boop. 'What did she do this time?' Bah."

"She attempted to assert herself as the alpha female of the group. With demonstrations."

"I do this shit every time we go out. Psht. You say it like it's still funny."

"It is funny."

"Affirmative. Your efforts are highly amusing."

"You weren't there, so you don't get to find what happened, what I did or did not do, funny."

"Based on the data, I am able to predict your tomfoolery with almost one hundred perfect accuracy. I am sorry to have missed it."

"You said you didn't wanna go to the damn party! You don't get to judge me for screwing around at a party you didn't go to, post-party!"

"Within my social parameters, I am permitted to feel regret."

"You snake. You love him more than you love me. You love each other the most. That's why you're ganging up on me!"

"Was there much unnecessary posturing, Shadow?"

"Indeed. She was quite splendid."

"I sure was. Scared off those usurpers! Inferior womenfolk, the lot of them."

"Were there any attempts at," gleaming metallic claws rise, gesturing, "'dancing'?"

"Not this time, thankfully."

"Query – what stopped her? My data shows that she cannot be stopped."

"I did say my feet hurt! Wow, you guys."

"We have her boots to thank for that."

"The boots that are to burn?"

"Yes."

"Burn, burn, burn."

"Personally, I'm inclined to spare them this fate."

"Bur–recalculating."

Rouge glares fondly at Shadow, who smirks back at Omega, who stares at a vase.

"Recalculating."

"Take your time. It's a lot to process."

"You are both being incredibly mean."

"Error. How tragic. It appears I am reconsidering this burning."

"Those boots are too valuable."

"Error…"

"How about this, then? I'll never wear those damn boots again. And furthermore, I'll dance twice as hard as usual."

"Twice as badly, you mean."

"No, you!"

"That's nonsense, as I never dance."

"Your face is nonsense."

"Very mature."

"Your face is mature." The bat folds her arms beneath her head and crosses her ankles, relishing in the hedgehog's huff. "Dunno what you two are on about, anyway. My dancing is magnificent. Anyway, you guys suck. I don't love you, anymore."

"Incorrect."

"You're delusional."

"Shadow, dear, would you rub my feet for me? They're still sore."

"I'll tear off your legs."

"No, you won't."

"Humph."

"These matters are unimportant. Rouge, the burning of the boots. This is what's important." The robot swivels in the direction of the front door, whining. "May I proceed to burn the boots, now?"

"Go right ahead, hon. They deserve it for hurting my precious, queenly feet."

"Burn. Burn!"

"Just be sure to do it outside, m'kay. And clean up afterward!"

"Affirmative. Initiating burning protocol now." The largest member of Team Dark lumbers away, moving with some difficulty in the cramped surroundings. "I do love to burn things."

"And you ought to realise that you didn't expressly tell him which boots he could burn."

"Shit." Rouge hurriedly rolls off the couch, falling to the carpet below, thus freeing Shadow's lap. "Omega, honey, wait!"

"Burn. Burn. Burn."

"No, no, no!"

* * *

Blaze sets the little potted plant on the stone arm of her throne with reverence. It will, indeed, keep her company, occupying her dominant side. But it will not ease her pain, this flower that reminds her of Silver's eyes. Which is silly of her. The colours are not even that similar. Yet it's all she can think about, everything she's about to lose, a whole life encompassed in this common weed. His eyes.

The flower is such a plain thing, that the visiting prince sneers at it.

* * *

Knuckles curls at the base of the Master Emerald like a loyal hound asleep at his human master's feet, dreaming defiant dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

"Husband."

"Yes, wife?"

"As much as I am enjoying this attention…" Amy remains resolute despite the onslaught of little kisses on her cheek and jaw, but the strain of not giving in can be seen etched in her pretty features. "I'm trying to concentrate, here." She looks close to exploding, flushed with the bottled intensity of her constant passion and love, now stirred up.

"You oughta focus on me, instead."

"Oh, you know I would, sweetie, forever if I could." Her lashes briefly flutter as she tilts her head a little, offering her ear for a delicate nip. "Nothing would get done around this house, though."

"But I feel neglected."

"Seriously?"

"Mmhm!"

"Like you're starved for my attention. As if."

"I can't get enough. I've got a gorgeous and lovable wife, so ya can't blame me."

Her green gaze wavers, now. Sighing heavily, she admits defeat, directing her amused gaze upon Sonic's playful wiles, failing to appear disapproving because she approves of him entirely. "You're dangerously charming, sometimes."

"And needy."

"I'll say."

"Aaaand I finished my half of the chores. All that hard work's got me feeling frisky."

She shudders, her lithe muscles rippling with inward excitement that renders her speechless, forgetting to use her hands to continue her work.

With a mischievous wink he settles more comfortably beside her, reaching into the sink. "How 'bout I help you finish up with this lot and after we're done, we'll go for a cuddle, yeah?"

"Oh, god, I'm so glad I married you."

"I'm not a bad catch, I guess. But see, I married you."

All these years later and she may yet swoon when his emerald gaze catches the light like this, streaming in from the little window.

"I'm the lucky guy, here."

* * *

Vector was frightened, at first. Lacking in tender experience and cumbersome in shape, he feared he might hurt Vanilla or offend her in some way. When she offered to teach him, he was relieved to accept, then revelled and unravelled as she took her time in acclimatising him to her tastes, which have proved to be very interesting.

They're sprawled out in bed, now, talking softly beneath breaths and tracing faces in the afterglow.

"Hope we didn't wake our kids."

The aging rabbit can only smile because she does love it so much when the scandalously younger crocodile talks of Cream and Cheese as their own.

A toothy, crooked grin of jest, softened. "Hope we didn't scar 'em too bad, at least."

Vanilla is thankful for Vector, for his kindness and loyalty and willingness to learn and to be controlled. For giving her an outlet for her womanly frustrations, rediscovering in herself an intensity of hunger that had lain dormant and aching for so long, a gnawing sense of suffering she had tried hard not to contemplate whilst raising a child alone, now roaring in the proximity of this man. After all, single mothers do not lust after the affections and bodies of lovers, especially not the nicer ones.

The crocodile doesn't show it, but his mind is busy ruminating serious matters such as these. He thinks it's about time that he put such old-fashioned concerns to rest. But money has been a hound on his heels since he was born and diamond rings don't come cheap.

The rabbit nestles in closer, nuzzling against his snout.

"Vanilla," is the gravelly, eventual whisper, once she has settled in comfort.

"Vector," she replies silkily, sweetly.

"I love ya."

"Dear, I love you, too."

* * *

"Honey."

"Mmyes?"

"I don't like it when you flirt with other women."

"Indeed?"

"Makes me very jealous."

"How strange." Shadow's angular brows bend with subtle intrigue as he pretends not to pay Rouge much attention, directing his searing glare at the cover of the book in his capable hands. "Was I flirting?"

"You certainly were."

"I don't recall. When, where?"

"Just before, at the desk. You were chatting up the librarian. Left me to my devices to do it, too."

"Oh, you render me a villain. I merely stated my preferences and asked her for a recommendation." The dark hedgehog lifts the book, turning its face toward the impassive bat. "She recommended this."

"Is that all?"

"That is all."

"Didn't ask for your number, huh?"

"Should I go back and give it to her?"

"You wound me."

"You just like to argue with me over silly, imaginary things."

"I doubt it. Judging by the way she smiled at you and twirled her hair about, she was definitely into you. Poor thing was in a state when you walked away."

"She's a mortal woman and I am the Ultimate Lifeform." Shadow allows Rouge a fond roll of the eyes before returning to studying his book, opening it to the first page. "Can you blame her?"

"So, I didn't imagine it, then!"

"You're being difficult, again."

"I can't resist. And I am a victim, too."

"Of your own design, perhaps. I have literally never flirted with you."

"Free to disagree, hon." Leaning against the shelving, she runs her fingers seductively along a spine. "Still, I don't like it when you flirt with other women."

"But we have established that I wasn't flirting because I never flirt."

"I don't care."

"Do you realise, even a little bit, what you put me through on a daily basis?"

"I feel like riling you up a little with accusations true or false every day. So what? You're doing alright with me."

"You're the worst best friend," is his quiet, affectionate mutter, easily perceived by her keen ears. "I can't even call you delusional, as then you'd have an excuse."

"Cruelty is my excuse."

"Truly the worst."

The bat enjoys lingering with the hedgehog, having already chosen her reading material for the weekend. She gives him some time to peruse the book before venturing huskily, "Are you taking it?"

"Yes, this will suffice."

"Shall we invite her home, too?"

"I thought you were jealous."

"Could be a threesome. That suits me just fine. She's cute, in an inescapably bookish way."

"Hmm."

Rouge can only grin at how Shadow pretends to think about it at some length.

"No, I don't think so."

"Aw."

* * *

"For me?"

"For you."

"Wow, Blaze, this is…"

She presents the gift with stiff shyness and an askance blush, desperately hoping for Silver's approval.

"It's lovely!"

She takes a very loud inward breath and cringes openly at herself. She's hardly acting regally. Like some love-struck, hormonal teenager rather than a princess.

"You didn't have to…"

"I wanted to."

He takes the delicate potted rose from her hands, the plant still young.

"I think it will add a certain…" The cat then gestures with her freed hands. "Romance, to your garden."

"Our garden," says the hedgehog in a gentle yet firm tone.

She almost squeaks when his bright, sunny eyes rise to meet with hers, imbued with such warmth that it actually reaches her, a heat different from her own.

"This place is yours as much as mine. Our refuge, together."

"But you started it."

"I couldn't do it without your help. I didn't know how. I needed a teacher."

She watches his smile bloom further, his cheeks tinged with a blush.

"A friend."

She's hopeful that her heart won't leap from its cage. It's beating so hard and fast. She almost reaches for her breast, as if to stall it.

As if to give her room to compose herself, as if he knows her need, he lowers his gaze to the pot and the delicate roses boldly proclaiming their colour and life, still small.

"I… I wanted you to have something to keep, something from my world. So you may feel less…"

"Lonely."

"Your gift to me has been my near constant companion. I cannot tell you how much it has comforted me."

"I'm glad I could do something to help you, even if only something small."

"You've done many things, Silver. So many things."

His blush intensifies. He giggles quietly.

She finds it adorable, something worthy of protection, to be nurtured. Her fur bristles with instinct.

"I hope they'll grow well, here."

"Roses are not to be underestimated. And the soil isn't poisoned, here."

"But I'm worried that I'll fail them."

"You won't."

He feels her hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

"This garden is a testament to that."

He dares to look up, to meet her burning gaze.

She smiles sweetly at him.

He grins crookedly back.

For a moment, this is all that is said.

* * *

Knuckles watches the sun rise, awake.


	6. Chapter 6

"You went on a digital date!"

"Um. Well. It wasn't a date, as such, but we did hang out."

"It's totally a date! And it's the cutest little compromise, ever! Ooh, and this'll give you two a chance to set up future dates, but outside of video games! I can't wait! Heeee! This is so exciting!"

The tip of Sonic's shoe gives Tails a friendly nudge in the knee, emerald gaze meeting knowingly with eyes like the sky from across the little table.

"Here she goes," says the fox, shyly grinning over his rather expensive, upmarket rendition of a chocolate milkshake.

"Yup," replies the hedgehog, content to sip his lemonade, smiling in a way that is fulfilled and calm. "Here she goes, alright."

Amy continues to gush over their little table, chosen for its placement outside the restaurant that recently opened in a prettier part of the city, allowing for a lovely view. But their eyes are on her face, as radiant as the sunny weather. The pink hedgehog is at her divinest when overwhelmingly, purely happy for others.

"Isn't my wife just magnificent?"

"Yeah, bro, she sure is."

"Pity Cream couldn't come. This could've been a double date. Amy would've loved that."

"Don't tease me, man. I can kick your butt."

"Mmmyeah, but that'd cause a public disturbance, bro."

"True. Anyway, I'm happy for her."

"'Cause Cream gets to hang out with her new dad. Vector and Vanilla are doing good, yeah?"

"From what I hear, they're doing great."

"That just makes today even better."

The pink hedgehog almost pulls the approaching waitron into a hug, which would be dangerous, considering her strength and enthusiasm.

* * *

"You know, I was joking about the librarian, before."

"I know."

"Then why did you agree to meet her somewhere for coffee?"

"Because she's pleasant enough company to keep. Besides, I rather like coffee."

"There'll likely be cake involved, too."

"And conversation, yes."

"That's taking a joke too far, honey, don't you think?"

"I wasn't joking."

There is no reply.

For a while, the topic seems to pass away, being left alone.

Shadow smiles a quiet, pleasant smile, contentedly paging through another of the books that the woman behind the desk had villainously recommended, surely, thus finding himself bewitched by their contents.

Rouge sneers at that damned book and says, through teeth, "I wasn't invited."

"She's not interested in you."

"Clearly."

"Although, I'm sure you two could be good friends."

"Nah."

"Oh?"

"She's too bookish for a jock like me."

"Excuse me, I'm very bookish."

"Yeah, well, you're cool enough for me in other ways, so…"

The dark hedgehog chuckles faintly under his breath.

Huffing, the bat moodily leans over his shoulder to peer at the pages, aquamarine glare narrowing, suspicious, keenly searching the lines for incantations and runes, only to find nothing out of the ordinary in the text. In fact, the story itself seems to suit her best friend's tastes in literature almost perfectly, which stings her badly enough to wince.

"You've been out of sorts since I told you."

"Mm. Have I?"

"Yes. I was refraining from asking, before, but–"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"It's nothing," is the husky mutter as Rouge withdraws from Shadow once more, somehow more sullen than before, plump lower lip protruding miserably whilst cold eyes cut like daggers, gleaming with every darting glance about the room, everything displeasing to look at all of a sudden.

"Rouge."

"I hate the colour of these walls."

"Rouge…"

"And we're getting rid of that stupid lamp."

"But you love that lamp."

"No, I don't."

He finally looks up from his reading, crimson swivelling over to meet with gemstone eyes, only to remain unmet.

"It's nothing!"

"No, it's not."

"Why's it always gotta be something with you?"

"You're clearly upset."

"I'm fine."

"I doubt that very much."

Folding tanned arms beneath an ample bosom, she jerks her head further away, with petulance.

"You're far too old to throw a tantrum like this."

"Your face is too old."

"Rouge."

"Stop saying my name like that. You sound like my bloody therapist."

"You don't have a therapist."

"Ah, so now you think I need one, don't you?"

"Perhaps," he says gently, patiently, closing the book with a soft thud and some humour, because for all her eccentricities, she is still quite adorable. "Now, then."

"No."

"You intend to suffer in silence?"

"Yes."

"Can I convince you otherwise?"

"No."

"I'd like to try, anyway, if I may."

"It's futile."

"Is it, really?"

Her muzzle wrinkles and she sniffs, like there's a bad smell.

"Rouge. What's the matter?"

Her large ears lower by a fraction, her brows scrunching up delicately.

"You don't have to answer me. As your best friend, I am always here for you. It'd just be easier for me to be useful to you, if I knew what was wrong."

A low growl merges into a reluctant sigh. "Makes sense."

"Did she offend you?"

"No, no, she's… Ugh."

"Ugh?"

"She's very nice, actually, and I like her a fair bit for someone I've barely spoken to."

"Did I offend you?"

"No, honey. You've done nothing wrong."

"Then," the hedgehog purrs without meaning to, but he is simply so soft-spoken at times, that he could talk the sea into forgoing its storms, "what is it?"

Likewise, the bat assesses herself internally, contemplating the emotional storm she is brewing inside. It isn't entirely surprising, the way she feels.

"It's okay to tell me. Whatever it is."

"It's not that, either. I can tell you anything. Shit, sometimes I tell you too much."

In the pause that follows, Omega's heavy steps resound more clearly over kitchen tiles as he wanders from one counter to the other, retrieving things and setting things down, his gleaming claws producing a metallic cacophony as they scrape against the sides of mixing bowls and work the meagre appliances with some disdain, the robot kept busy with experimentation.

"Honey, I'm sorry for being a bitch."

"It's okay."

"I'm very unhappy right now, is all."

"Why's that?"

Rouge seems to have an answer, then hesitates, rethinking it.

Shadow is touching her knee. His touch is light and non-invasive and familiar.

"I don't know," she then says, settling for this, still avoiding his eyes.

He can sense that she is either unconvinced, or lying. He wants to question her further, but he also senses that she has shut down.

She will not explain herself adequately, at least, not now. But she doesn't leave the room in a huff, remaining close beside him, staring at the lamp that apparently revolts her. She tries not to wince again when he takes back his hand, leaving cold behind.

He returns to his book, trying to find pleasure in reading, finding the exercise cumbersome, now. His mind, seeking somewhere peaceful to rest, eventually wanders to thoughts of the pretty, clever librarian who understands his tastes and the impending date of their meeting.

When the bat does summon the courage and decency in herself to turn back to the hedgehog, she rediscovers him.

He is smiling, again.

In their silence that follows, even Omega's background noise doesn't drown out the onset of rain.

* * *

"And he was so dreadfully boring!"

Silver giggles into Blaze's shoulder, having divided his attention between listening to her bemoaning her suitors and levitating various gardening tools, dropping a few in his amusement.

Cat and hedgehog tend once again to the littler plants, together.

Blaze is happy to express herself freely after being so sorely stifled, like a flame deprived of oxygen, small but fierce. She speaks now with passion in her velvety tone, bright eyes expressive, elegant hands kind on tender leaves.

Silver is happy to listen to a voice that is not his own, happier still to listen to hers. To be close to her. To imagine kissing her and rebuking himself for such thoughts, only to sink helplessly deeper into the fantasies. He fails to notice that it is possibly out of the ordinary to be nuzzling her shoulder, weakened by his happiness and his giggling.

She doesn't find it unusual, either, continuing her articulate speech with his weight pleasantly pressed against her, her tail coiling protectively about his folded legs. The gardener's hat on her head, a rattily charming old thing they found miraculously intact on a buckled shelf in a desolate greenhouse, keeps out the worst of the sun.

It's all so natural to them, so normal and in place, until they suddenly find themselves pressed together, in silence, with the sun having already begun to set.

* * *

"You're still not used to being indoors for a few hours, huh?"

"Mmph. Not really, no."

"It's okay. You wander the wilderness a lot. I geddit."

"But it's peacetime, now. You wonder why I haven't settled with others. Why I'm still travelling by myself, with only the Wisps for company."

"Only 'cause I'm social! I love people. People make for potential friends and I love making friends. But I know you're not like me. It's not too hard for me to understand."

"Safer if I can't be tracked to one place. To someone who could get hurt. My fault."

"It's lonely, being so considerate of others, huh?"

"S'fine."

The Wisps play freely with the pieces of the board game, failing to obey its rules.

"I have them."

"And me."

"And you, yes."

"Whenever we bump into each other, it's like the planets are all lined up for something magical. Even if we are stuck indoors, heh."

"Lovely home. Still strange."

"Would a cup of hot cocoa help?"

Whisper's gentle, anxious smile relaxes very slightly as she tilts head to gaze through closed eyes at Tangle.

"Dunno when the rain will pass, but…" The lemur, acting as hostess, is poised to leap up and attend to her guest, but all that energy is restrained by a most charming grin of concern. "While you're here, I've got tiny marshmallows."

The wolf's boots are heavy on the carpet. Her hands are large and stern on her armoured knees. Still, she manages to look gentle and harmless.

"Wanna cup of hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows on top, mmm?"

"Yes, please."

"Coming right up, pal!"

* * *

Knuckles is cold and drenched, choosing not to take shelter just yet.


End file.
